Eew
by Cugami
Summary: One dance. An almost kiss. The insult and the comeback. RonDraco. Complete.
1. Eew

**Title**: Eew  
**Pair**: Ron and Draco, and other things  
**Disclaimers**: Ron and Draco are not mine, sadly. Insert proper disclaimer here. Scene inspiration from Mean Girls--- I laughed my head off.  
**note**: Somehow, I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll end up writing a sequel. This was meant to be a joke for a fic but... 

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It was the night before everyone was to be sent out on their missions. As for compensation that they were about to throw their lives away for a war they did not belong in, there was this ball. Hopefully, it won't be their last dance.

Though doubt and fear loomed over their heads, there was an effort to forget. A short while was all they asked as hands reached out for each other. Legs intertwined with arms linked in an embrace, swaying with the soft beat of the song.

To the left were Parvati and Longbottom, laughing with their heads together. Longbottom was blushing and seems that Parvati was pushing him to do something daring for once. A few ways off were Chang and Zabini, strange couple but looked solemn nonetheless. Next to them were Crabbe and Goyle, stupidly snickering and dancing together with four left feet. Drunk, no doubt. Was that Snape dancing with Dumbledore? What a hilarious sight. Ah, no they were just talking with McGonaggall. He coughed, trying to clear his mind of the image of the oldest people around dancing together like love fools – like most of the students at the moment.

A soft yelp startled him and brought him back to who he was dancing with. He apologized with a sheepish grin which was returned in kind with a soft chuckle. He wasn't alone in observing people, he noticed.

Their eyes met. Doubtful as to what that spark truly meant.

Leaning closer, ever so slightly, everyone around them were either kissing or snuggling together. The mood was in the air.

Awkwardly, their lips met.

They chorused, shuddering at the clumsy touch and letting go of each other. And it was over. Barely a second had passed. He pulled away from her with an apologetic smile, I'll go get a drink.

She laughed at him, shoving him away with an amused sparkle in her eyes. Turning around, he noticed that someone comfortably slipped in the space he had left behind. Harry and Hermione --- what a sight.

I saw that. You're so incompetent, you can't even ki---

And the night was lost in a swirl of promises between friends, lovers, even foes.

--------- 


	2. Then Came The Day Before Tomorrow

**part II**

------

It was neither a threat nor the kind of topic one could retaliate to. As a matter of fact, he barely understood what that was all about. Yet, the words rang in his ears repeatedly like the persistent buzz of annoying bees.

_I saw that. You're so incompetent, you can't even ki—Save the insults for tomorrow, Malfoy. I don't need to hear it tonight._

With a frown, Draco stared at the trail one Weasley had left as he trudged his way through the crowd of dancing pairs and out of the Great Hall. After the initial shock of the cutting hiss had passed, Draco felt anger. The emotion left him as swift as it came at the reminder of what tomorrow meant for all of them – for all he knew, there might not be one.

Suddenly, he didn't want to be surrounded by these delusional students. The bastards were all over each other. This could be their last night together, that was true, and everyone seemed determined to live their whole life in one night.

He left the ball with a disgruntled huff, deciding that he would rather double-check the potions meant for the missions. It was their last bout, hopefully. Although history had proven that the absence of Voldemort did not stop Death Eaters, it would still make a big difference to cut the head of this cockroach organization. His life was at a standstill because of this bloody mess. Literally.

The thought of how everything in his life halted sent his mind in a streak of expletives concerning this war. The words were at the tip of his tongue, ready to be spat out when two voices stopped him dead on his tracks.

I am Harry's keeper.I understand, Mr. Weasley, but you can relax tonight and we will handle the preparations. Do get some rest. You will need it.good night.

And with that, Ronald Weasley walked on and turned for the hallway that led to the Gryffindor tower. Draco Malfoy found himself staring at Dumbledore's inquiring blue eyes the next second.

May I help you, Mr. Malfoy?

Draco mentally cursed himself for forgetting to hide before eavesdropping. Overlooking his own dilemma of getting caught, a series of things clicked together in Draco's mind. He knew that factions were leaving by dawn; some for diversion, others for rescue of the wizard towns and then those who were to go straight into Voldemort's lair. That suicidal group included the annoying Boy-Who-Should-Win-Or-Else.

Said boy must win even if it meant lives on their side were lost.

That notion irked Draco beyond compare. Was one boy so important that others should die for him? Granger wouldn't be with the Golden Boy. Though miraculously gifted to have a brain bigger than her hair, she had little knowledge of the wizarding world that she would be of little help in navigation. Instead, the Weasel, as Potty's most trusted companion, was to navigate it through. Why Dumbledore won't ride a broom and be Potty's keeper was another irritating subject to dwell on. There probably was a logical reason for that but he would disparage that later. There was some flaw in the suicide stunt that needed Draco's immediate attention.

As a matter of fact, you may.  
----

A group of ten gathered in an empty classroom, which was an uncanny spectacle as it was still dark outside. On normal days, no decent teenager would be awake before dawn.

All rightI have the map, Weasley ran in the room, disheveled but very much awake, waving a smaller version of the map on the floor. We can leave as soon as everyone's ready.

Weasley was grabbed by the arm as the others filed out of the room but cut he Potter off with a grin before the boy could say anything. He patted his best friend on the back, We'll win, Harry. I'll make sure you get to finish this.

With that, Weasley dragged his best friend out of the classroom.

Someone stepped out of the shadows, gray eyes narrowed at the marks on the huge map spread on the floor. Why wasn't he surprised? He noted that the tactician never once thought of this plan for his own survival but for his best friend's. The escape route back to Hogwarts was a difficult area with strong winds and stormy clouds at this time of year. This path would slow down anyone chasing them, not to mention greatly impair their vision to add to the handicap of the weather. Weasley also chose members of the Quidditch team from various houses --- all with impeccable abilities to fly. The gnat was going to bet their survival on speed and instinct once they hit the clouds.

How dare he not include Draco in this mission? Not that he was willing to sacrifice his life for some halfblooded hero to start with but it was still an insult not to be included. Especially because Draco knew he could damn well fly like one born with wings.

However, that was not the most aggravating part of this whole scheme. Skill was one thing and the group had it, for the most part. But from where the little lack of skill was a handicap, good equipment would more than atone for it.  
----

Harry was worried; more so for Ron than anyone else in this group. His best friend had explained to them the route more than enough but he knew there was something amiss. When he realized what it was, there was no time to change plans.

He watched as the others kicked off from the ground, hovering in air with their most valuable item in this journey. Their escape relied heavily on flying and it would take more than a decent broom to finish the course. His jaw tightened as his thoughts bordered on derogatory remarks about his best friend's broom. The handle might break because of the wind and with the heavy clouds, he wasn't sure if any one of them could fly against the blow of the wind to grab a fallen comrade. Where was Ron, anyway?

To Harry's surprise, Ron lowered next to him with a reassuring smile, riding the latest model of Nimbus. Ah, I was just looking for you. You know, I thinkI know what you're worrying about. Well, don't. Dumbledore let me have this baby for a while andI think I can go through the clouds with this. Let's go?

---

Draco entered Dumbledore's office. He had never been in this place before and his eyes noted the artifacts that decorated the whole room. The feast that his eyes were currently busy with was cut abruptly as the headmaster cleared his throat.

Mr. Weasley wanted you to have this.

Draco couldn't help but frown in confusion as to what the Gryffindork wanted as he opened the small piece of paper. The message was short but it took him all his will to tame the tug of his lips and he hoped the old bloke would stop looking at him with that knowing small smile.

_Looks like you get to insult me tomorrow, after all._

_R._


	3. So Ends the Wait

He wasn't waiting. 

The fact that he was by the Quidditch field, watching as the various divisions arrive and be greeted by their friends meant nothing. He was here to list down the names of those who weren't able to return. He volunteered but that was only because anyone else would likely forget what they were supposed to do once these people arrived. They would be too busy asking how they were, did they recover prisoners, and did they do this and that --- _useless things_. In the end, there would be no one to do the mundane task correctly. He was not one to be useless and join in with the cheering squad when the bloody war was far from over. He was a perfectionist. And perfectionists do nothing less than perfect.

And to not be able to list down casualties was less than perfect.

Draco Malfoy haughtily demanded the names from each team leader as if the entire world relied on knowing the names of the supposedly dead or lost forever.

He hated this job. It was such a disgrace. He wanted to curse what possessed him to even volunteer when he could either be sleeping or doing something else that was remarkably better than listing names. Yes, he volunteered. Yes, he wanted to do something else other than list names. Yes, he would rather be sleeping. But, no, he wasn't waiting. He wasn't.

The list grew longer and longer. The more names he got, the more irritated he became, to a point that the quill broke from his grip. His patience was wearing thin and the last straw was when someone had the gall to bump in on him to join the rushing students and professors. What in the world was going onand then he saw _him_.

His eyes searched the newly-arrived faces, and pushed past the filthy Mudblood to grab Wonder Boy by the collar, snarling, "How many did you lose this time, Potter? Where's the whole entourage that came with you? Where--"

He wasn't done yet when Pomfrey levitated Scarhead away. Only then did Draco notice all the blood and the broken broom. Slowly, his vision panned out from the discarded trash on the ground to his surroundings. There was Granger, seemingly lost in thought and pale as a ghost if he might add. He wondered what he looked like.

Well, he couldn't seem to move for some abominable reason. It must be the wind, or the snow and definitely the storm. It was so cold; he could hardly feel his body. Why wasn't he wearing his gloves? And cloak? And why was he still standing outside? Damnit, feet. Move.

Finally, his feet decided that it was going to die underneath the pile of snow. One step at a time, crunch, crunch, and the knee-deep snow only buried him deeper. Once again, he wanted to curse the biggest and stupidest mistake of his life for going out here.

Suddenly, everything went white.

Draco wanted to scream so loud that the whole castle would shake and feel his irritation. The echo of more loathsome things falling and hitting the ground reached his ears. Good. His silent scream worked. Odd as that may have sounded.

Someone yanked him off the ground with a grunt, white dots marring his already blurry vision. It should be general knowledge that it was rude to yank people without a word of warning. His head was hurting. That was it; he had had it with this streak of bad luck and all for doing something so charitable as to write dead people's names for others to fucking remember in the future. And no one had even asked him if he was fine. _The nerve of it all_.

He would march right back to the castle and into his bedchambers to sleep this all off. As soon as his world stopped swaying, that is. Shouldn't be too hard if he took it one step at a time and so he did. As the day was wont to get worse (what with such a bad start); the offending object that was probably the reason that he had fallen, lay before him. His numb hand picked it up, quite intent on breaking it to pieces but stopped. The piece of wood was familiar. Looking up, he saw the other half of it and once again, the rest of the field came to his sight and there were figures dragging each other along to the double doors.

"You broke my broom!"

Was that his voice? It sounded odd.

Draco threw the piece at Weasley, who was leaning heavily against Granger with one arm slung over her shoulders.

"Malfoy!" Granger hissed and glared, "This is not the---"

He cut her off and trudged forward. A snowstorm wouldn't stop him from hurting that redhead. She clung to Weasley even as Draco grabbed the surprised boy's arm away from her. "You, Mudblood. Away."

A fist collided with his cheek.

Next he looked up, Granger wasn't there anymore. Good. She was smart enough to understand when she was unwanted; he gave her credit for that. Now, back to the object of his frustration, "I knew you were incompetent, Weasel. Can't you even take care of something that belongs to someone?"

"Shut it, Malfoy." Weasley was a pile of black and red as he sat down in the cold snow. Bleeding. Then, the bleeding buffoon smirked.

"How dare you smirk"

"Yea, yea. You sure don't waste time insulting me. I just got back."

Draco scowled.

Ron just smiled.

With a disgruntled huff, Draco slipped his arm around Ron's waist while slinging the redhead's arm over his shoulders. "You broke my broom."

"You got to insult me."

"It's past midnight. This isn't the tomorrow, you inconsiderate bastard."

"You were waiting?"

And that was more of a statement, coming from the boor.

One look, then the tactless brute kissed.

"Eew." Draco made a face, "You call that a ki---"

And then he shut up.

_** fin**_


End file.
